


Let the Past Die

by silverbird6



Series: Hope In the Darkness: The Last Jedi and Beyond [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VIII: The Last Jedi, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2017-12-30
Packaged: 2019-02-24 10:45:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13212129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silverbird6/pseuds/silverbird6
Summary: Set of POV's during the events of the Last Jedi.





	Let the Past Die

**Author's Note:**

> So I was watching the Last Jedi (which I really enjoyed, despite some glaring flaws) and tried to explain character motivations to my family keeping in mind concepts from the Star Wars expanded universe. This series of one-shots just kinda sprang into being from that. I think there are many ways to interpret each character's thoughts, but this is mine. Obviously SPOILERS for the Last Jedi if you haven't seen it yet.

The path to the tree was slippery, but the boots that tread upon it were sure and steady. Purposefully, the man ghosted along the stone steps, flame burning in his hand. No doubt, no reluctance, until the flame was close enough to singe the tree. The man, so sure and steady before, hesitated. This was his life, and the life of his father before him. Generations upon generations of knowledge and wisdom, stored and entrusted to him by the Force. The flame slowly retracted. He could not do this. He could not destroy his past, his inheritance, his legacy.

He ignored the feeling in his gut urging him to _move_. He ignored the Force urging him to create a new beginning, to establish true balance. Instead he gave into the festering self-loathing and self-doubt and stepped back. He refused to think that this would be the end of everything he worked towards. Even though he knew the tree, which had represented the life and light of the Force for generations, only represented failure and stubbornness now. But still he couldn’t do it. He _wouldn’t_ do it.

He didn’t have to do it. Master Yoda, in a way Luke never had mastered, managed to pour wisdom and understanding into him through actions. He didn’t need the books, lengthy and full of old notions of rules, regulations, manipulating the force. He had begun the transition of the Jedi order. They were no longer peacekeepers, as if there was such a thing as peace. They were not generals or one-man armies. They were not to be lifted onto a pedestal and be bound by all the restrictions of fame. The Force was never meant to be that way. Never meant to be _used_. And Anakin Skywalker, even with all his faults, was the first to realize that in its entirety. Shifting from the light to the dark, ever trying to find his place in the world before realizing at the end that he no longer had a place in the world. That the instinctive use of the force, that of a force-sensitive child, was good, was _right_. That the light side pushed him to the dark, and the dark pushed him to the light and back and forth. The Old Republic lead to the Sith which lead to the Republic which lead to the Empire which lead to the New Republic which lead to the First Order. Always rebellion, separatists, freedom fighters. Those who lurked in the shadow and who ruled from the spotlight. It had to end. He had known this when he spoke to Rey in the cave.  It is time for the Jedi to end.  Neither is it the time of the Sith.  Let it all die, let it burn away to ashes.  But the Force, the Force was eternal. Not to be used, manipulated, driven towards an ultimate purpose. But to merely exist; to flow through life and bind it all together. The Jedi as a conduit, children constantly awed by the vastness of the Force and using it without selfish or selfless intent.

That didn’t mean he wouldn’t fight. He had tried that and look where it got him. Living alone on a rock, abandoning his friends, his family. Not there when his best friend, his _brother_ , was murdered by his own son. Not there to comfort his sister when her husband passed. No, he would fight. Not for a Republic yet to exist. For love and family. For the _now_ , not the future. For balance. And with that, he was centered again. Oh, how he had discounted the Jedi before him. How easy it was to stray from oneself, become lost in guilt and regret and anger and doubt. He remembered reading the Jedi Code, vowing at the time to follow its’ every letter:

_There is no emotion, there is peace._   
_There is no ignorance, there is knowledge._   
_There is no passion, there is serenity._   
_There is no chaos, there is harmony._   
_There is no death, there is the Force._

But he knew better now. That wasn’t right. No, the Jedi were wrong. The Sith were too.

_There is peace amidst emotion._   
_There is wisdom from simplicity._   
_There is composure from devotion._   
_There is unity in the chaos._   
_There is no death, there is only..._

He listened to the pull, the tug of his soul. Yes, that was the answer. He would not abandon them. Not again. For hope is the center of everything. Thank you, Ben Kenobi, for once again lighting the way.

Climb the mountain. Don’t meditate, don’t blind yourself. Listen. Feel the ground, the water, the atmosphere. Space. Let devotion once buried light the way. Wade through the chaos of a desperate last battle, of darkness and light colliding; look for the center. For there lies the path a Jedi must take. The path he must take.

But first take care of unfinished business. Find peace, closure. Accept the loathing and failure and self-doubt. The anger, the hate. Accept his mistakes. Then accept forgiveness and love. Accept the bond, the spirit of rebellion he abandoned so long ago. Only then will he move. Follow the tug on the soul. Out. Buy time. For love. Not for amends, not for the future. Not in anger or self-righteousness or with selfish ambition. There is no voice that cries for running, for fighting, for hatred or stifling serenity. There is the peace of simplicity, and that is all. On the island, he was the darkness, he was fear and anger. Today, he must take the side of the light, for the darkness holds sway here. The Force sings for balance, and he obliges. A dance, a dangerous dance. He does not back down, but he does not advance. He speaks in love, knowing it will be viewed as an insult. He is apologetic, but firm. He knows where he stands. Does Kylo Ren? Did Ben Solo?

Lightsabers clash. Oh foolish boy, Ben thinks as he once did. That the life of a force-sensitive is a red lightsaber or a blue one. That this right here, this clash of steel, is what it means to be with the Force. He feels the pang of self-disappointment and failure once more. But he will not ignore it nor be ruled by it. It is a part of who he was, but that is not who he is now. Now he is the light, so he will be completely in the light. And he buys time, leading the child on a merry chase until he hears it. The whisper. _Let go. Let go. Your time is over._

A part of him clings onto his island in defiance. To the sweet siren call of rebellion and family and life. He could help the rebellion begin again, this time taking his rightful place among its leaders. But the voice is quietly insistent. _Luke. This is your purpose. This has always been your purpose. Remember Ben Kenobi. Remember his courage, his devotion and resolve. He understood, now you do too._

And he did. He did understand. So he accepts his fear and selfishness along with his love and devotion and spoke the words Ben spoke to his father long ago. Allowed the lightsaber to pierce him, though it didn’t do any damage. Haunted Kylo Ren’s thoughts once more, then let go. Scrambled up onto the rock, to look at the horizon. Sought Leia and Rey among the trillions of minds in the universe. Watched the sunset. And he let go with the peace and wisdom of a single thought: the Force is eternal.


End file.
